Max wants to eat out on weekends. As in: Every. Single. Meal. He would like to go to the diner for the breakfast and, actually, could we find a new one to try? He would like pasta and cheese for lunch at his favorite local pizza place. And for dinner, sushi!
Obviously, we're not endlessly eating out, but we have been going a lot more than we usually do. Or, at least, Dave and Max are because half the time Max prefers to go on some Daddy-Max eating adventure. (Dave is a master of eating adventures.)
Max has always enjoyed his food, but this restaurant obsession is fascinating to me. Because he used to hate trying new places to eat. If a place was the least bit crowded or had any sort of din, he'd dash out, screeching. For years, our local dining options were limited to this greasy spoon where Max would only sit at the table right next to the bathroom. The waitress knew to save it for us on Sunday nights.
And so, when his entire face lights up on Sunday morning because he'd like to go have chocolate-chip pancakes at his favorite dinner, PLEASE, it is hard to say "No." But then, we put our foot down for lunch and dinner. Well, at least lunch.
At times, it's hard to say turn down requests for any number of things that have a Max history. He wants to get a ball at the toy store? Well, sure, because I can remember when he had no interest in balls because he had such trouble holding them. He wants to go on another ride at the amusement park? Of course. Once upon a time, he was terrified of them. He wants to read a fifth book at bedtime? Awesome. He used to not care about reading at all—or be able to read, period.
Eating out gets a little more expensive, as I let him know.
"Max! Eating out costs money!" I'll remind him, and he'll go get his wallet and pull out a few dollars.
"Max, it costs more than that!" I'll explain, and he'll pull out a few more bucks.
One of these days we'll let him take his overstuffed wallet (he gets allowance) and pay for our meal (like, when we hit Boston Chicken). Although if he wants to take us out for a five-star meal, I'm not turning him down.
We have a saying in our house, called our " The Crippled kid syndrome". If he will do it and it will increase his range of ability we do it. Or if it makes it things better oh gee.. we do it. Now his brother has it.... and there is nothing wrong with his brother :)
ReplyDeleteHa!!!
DeleteIf only my parents would get me a millipede....
ReplyDeleteI found one of those once down in our basement. I would have saved it for you if I'd known!
DeleteEven if you had to ship it across the country?
DeleteAnna, I would have done that for you (but with no guarantees he would have arrived live)!
DeleteI have gleefully ordered pizza at 10pm just because I was so excited that he was able to both that he was hungry at all and what specifically he wanted to eat. Pizza? Well after bedtime? Right before Papa Johns closes? ABSOLUTELY KID!!! There are some moments where you don't know if you're the best parent on Earth or the worst! :-)
ReplyDeleteLet's go with "Best"!
DeleteWhat does Sabrina think of this, Ellen? I totally get it though. My mom thinks nothing of letting me do pottery because its something due to a lack of coordination and strength I could not have done as a child. When I see young kids(7 or 8) using the pottery wheel, I sort of get jealous because I could not have done it at that age. And although I can now, I am alright but not great at it.
ReplyDeleteShe gets to choose restaurants so she's perfectly happy with the eating-out thing. And we keep it fair; if Max gets a toy she gets one too. That's great that you do pottery, I've always wanted to try.
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